Balthazar of Meroë was not only a scholar of the heavens but also a physician-priest among his people, known for charting the courses of stars and interpreting omens. One night, as he studied the familiar constellations from the banks of the Nile, a brilliance unlike any he had ever recorded pierced the darkness, a star that shimmered as though it were alive, pulsing with a rhythm of divine intent.

At first, he thought it an illusion. But when it returned the next night, brighter still, a tremor ran through his soul. That very evening, exhaustion overtook him, and in his sleep he dreamed.

The Dream of the Angel

In his vision, a great angel clothed in white fire appeared. His voice was like the rush of waters yet as gentle as a lullaby. The angel told him:

“Do not fear, son of Africa. The Light you see is no wandering star but the herald of Heaven’s gift. A child, the Savior of all nations, has been born in the land of Judea. You will not journey alone — for two others, seekers like yourself, will be called from the east. The three of you shall meet at the appointed crossing, and together your gifts will proclaim Him King, Priest, and Sacrifice.”

The angel gave him guidance with such precision it was beyond doubt: the route through the deserts, the oasis where he would find refuge, even the faces of the other wise men he would meet.

When Balthazar awoke, his skin glistened with dew though his chamber was dry, and the fragrance of myrrh — the very gift he carried in his heart to offer — lingered in the air.

Miraculous Ordeal

The journey tested him. Bandits cornered him in the Nubian desert, but when he raised his hands to pray, a sudden sandstorm arose, blinding the raiders and leaving him unharmed.

Crossing the Red Sea’s edge, his camel collapsed from exhaustion, yet the moment he despaired, a fisherman appeared as though from nowhere, offering him a fresh beast of burden and vanishing before Balthazar could even thank him.

Nights were hardest. Sometimes the star would vanish beneath clouds, but each time he faltered, the angel returned in dreams to steady him: “Keep walking. The King awaits.”

The Meeting of the Three

At the edge of Damascus, he saw them — the very faces shown to him in his dream: Melchior of Persia with his gift of gold, Caspar of India with frankincense. Though strangers, they greeted one another as brothers, for each had been given the same vision. Together, they followed the star with unshaken hearts until it rested over Bethlehem.

The Certainty of the Heart

When Balthazar knelt before the child, he felt the weight of his journey dissolve. The dreams, the miracles, the star itself — they were not accidents. The child’s eyes, wide and unknowing yet ancient and infinite, bore into his soul. He knew in that instant what the angel had promised: this was no ordinary birth. This was salvation, wrapped in swaddling clothes.

He laid his gift of myrrh at the child’s feet — a bittersweet symbol of sacrifice and suffering to come — and whispered, “I knew You before I saw You.”

And in his heart, there was no doubt.